Núria Cadenes: "The same man I used to see wearing a cassock at home had risked his life to save other people."

BarcelonaThe starting point of Who saves a life, with which Núria Cadenas (Barcelona, ​​1970) has won the latest Proa Novel Prize. Her novel tells the true story of an escape network for Allied airmen, Jews, and Nazi fugitives in the Cerdanya region, in which the author's great-uncle, Joan Domènech, participated. Through the reconstruction of this relative's joys and suffering, Cadenas weaves a multifaceted narrative, recounting how some of the losers of the Spanish Civil War were able to collaborate in heroic actions that, nevertheless, had to be kept secret to avoid repression by the Franco regime.

Reading this novel, you come to the conclusion that risking your life can be worthwhile.

— It's a novel about people who act with courage. I was going to say brave people, but I don't know if they are or not: in any case, these courageous acts define them.

Some succeed, but in other cases they pay for their daring with their lives.

— It's very powerful, but that's how it is. Melitó, who is directly inspired by a real man, Melitó Sala, ended up being arrested by the Gestapo and died in an extermination camp in 1945. Then, his family, who were already part of the resistance networks, instead of letting it go, continued saving lives.

You emphasize the kindness of many of these characters. It's linked to a very specific historical moment: would we still find it today?

— We have freedom to act and the capacity to decide, even in the most terrible circumstances. Who saves a life The novel explains, and in a way provides an example of, people who exercise this capacity to act by helping others. The characters in the novel risked their lives, some for ideology, others out of conviction, others out of trust in the person who asked them... and some even without knowing why, but they did it.

Although it is an ensemble novel, the character of Joan Domènech, inspired by a great-uncle, stands out. Who saves a life It begins with a beating he receives at the rector's office for being a "communist" and because he is "the traitor of the French medal." Is that one of the first stories he told you?

— He never explained any of it to me. He died when I was 14. If he spoke about any of this, it was with his mother or grandmother, though he never boasted about it. It turns out that my great-uncle Juan, the same man I saw at home in his cassock, had risked his life to save others. His story wasn't a secret: there's a book about it, he has the French Legion of Honor and the Resistance Medal. But it would have been very easy for it to remain unknown, as in so many other cases. How many people are there who have never spoken about their role during those years, not to hide, but to avoid bragging about it?

You hesitate to say they are heroes.

— Yes, because when we label someone a hero, we imagine an exceptional or unattainable person, but in the novel, they are people of many types and diverse ideologies. They aren't especially heroic, even if they behave heroically. There are more people like that than it seems.

One of the last times you verified this was during the DANA storm of October 29, 2024, which left 229 dead and devastated thousands of homes.

— On the day of the storm and floods, some neighbors risked their lives to save people being swept away by the current or who were in danger. The storm was terrible, but it also filled me with hope.

Did the recent storm finally convince you to finish writing this novel? You've explained that you'd been thinking about it for a while.

— When I published Tiberius Caesar [Proa, 2023] I already had the folder open, although I hadn't put it on yet. Its origin was a series of reports on borderlands that I had written for the magazine Time. When I was assigned to Cerdanya, I spoke about Father Juan's network through some witnesses who were still alive and even, if my memory serves me right, through a son of Melitó.

You got your parents back in one of the stories ofIn the flesh and blood (Ara Llibres, 2025), right?

— It was the first time I'd written about them. Perhaps Father Juan's story is part of the same creative process; I hadn't thought of that until now.

In other novels you've written, you've taken historical events or renowned figures and brought them down from their pedestals. You highlight their humanity.

— History is also this. In Who saves a life I create a literary blend of reality and fiction. Just as when you mix water with flour, something different comes out, something similar happens when you mix reality and fiction: there are verifiable facts, but I tell them through characters who strive to be as complex as we humans are.

Yes The banker (1984 and 2013 editions) You were digging in the darkness; here is evidence of finding the light through the constellation of characters surrounding Father Juan. For him, the story of Job from the Bible is very important. Is it for you too?

— Even though I'm an atheist, there are several episodes in the Bible that move me deeply. The Book of Job speaks of a very raw, vivid, and real humanity, bruised and battered. I especially like when, after suffering so much, Job challenges God and asks Him to judge him. He's convinced he hasn't done anything wrong. That's why he feels capable of defying Him. This novel is also about that: even if you break me, I will remain true to my principles.

Who saves a life It shows the two sides of the Church: Father Juan saves lives, but there is a part of the Church that acts very differently.

— Part of the Catalan Church hierarchy closely aligned itself with the Francoist dictatorship. It dedicated itself to persecuting its own members, even though they actually had a very different understanding of the Church. It is the Church that interests me: the Church of community, of the people, the one that stands up for the vulnerable. It shares, in fact, the message of the Gospel and of Jesus.

There is that scene where the bishop of Seu d'Urgell summons Mossèn Joan and has to wait for her for a long time, alone.

— They leave him alone and freezing, not even offering him a glass of water. They're not forbidden from doing so. Anticipating your owner's wishes is despicable. Human beings can be cruel enough to deny you a glass of water.

In Who saves a life There is also much suffering and pain. I think, for example, of the story of Francisco, who is from the FAI and lives on Aurora Street until he is arrested.

— Francisco refused to flee because he said no one had died and therefore he couldn't be accused of anything. He lived with his family at number 1 Aurora Street, very close to where Noi del Sucre was murdered, a place that no longer exists: it was demolished when they built the Raval promenade. A friend who also has roots in Cerdanya and I went there one day and discovered a tavern that faces directly where Francesc's apartment building must have been. We went in, ordered a vermouth, and wanted to toast him.

In the novel we encounter fragments of the police and even the commander of the firing squad that must apply "the last penalty" to the condemned.

— The lives of the condemned were passed from one official to another. It's horrifying, but that's how they did it systematically; with that bureaucratic coldness, they murdered people. Francisco ended up being executed at Camp de la Bota.

There is also the experience of concentration camps like Ribesaltes, where nurse Friedel makes the decision to save everyone she can from death.

— The diary entries I'm quoting are real. They really impressed me. She writes: "I only see immense eyes in faces marked by suffering and bitterness, eyes and more eyes, eyes parading before me, like in a film." She explains so well what she observes and how she feels! What stunned me was that, despite being desperate, those people always asked about their families. It was others they were worried about. Excuse me, I'm getting emotional now...

I get the impression that you must have written this novel with tears in your eyes at many points.

— When I write, I often end up crying. And later, when I read the chapter aloud to check the pacing and avoid repetition, I cry then too. There are many passages in this novel that I won't be able to recite in public because I wouldn't be able to hold back the tears.

Do you remember the first story or novel that made you cry with empathy for what happened to the characters?

— We should think about it a little.

In my case, I'm pretty clear that it was The Match Girlby Hans Christian Andersen. I couldn't bear the thought of the little girl dying in the middle of the street, frozen to death.

— There's a Chekhov story about a boy who writes a terrible letter. He's an orphan boy who's been sent to work as a servant in a house and is mistreated. The boy gets a piece of paper and writes a letter to his grandfather asking him to come and get it. But when he sends it, you realize the boy hasn't written down the man's address and only writes "my grandfather."